one more day

i don't really have a lot to say today, but i just wanted to vent, i guess. this house has so many memories of my baby every where i go. in fact, this town is full of memories. every time i go get a coke, i think of her saying, "wanna coke-o?". when i take ashton to the park, i remember how she played on the slides, and the last time she was there, she fell twice and bumped her little head and skinned her knees. every time i drive by raider park i remember when we went to the fishing hole and she had mud all over her little face as she splashed in the shallow water. every time i go to wal-mart, i hear her say, "what's this, what's this?". when we drive around in the country, and i see cows, i remember how excited she would get to see the "moo-moos". when we go to mcdonald's i remember how excited she got over a "appy meo" (happy meal). i remember how she would say "wanna watch tv?" which meant she wanted to watch a movie. or she would say "wanna watch m-bo" (dumbo) which was her most recent favorite movie. every time ashton grabs a rag and dusts things around the house, i remember how much she loved to help clean. every time i load the dishwasher, i can see her standing there waiting for me to hand her the dishes so she could put them in. every time i do laundry, i hear her squealing in excitement and reaching to sit on top of the dryer so that she could put the clothes in the washer. every time i come into the basement, i see the books that she loved to read and the movies that she loved to watch and the toys that she loved to play with, and it's almost too much to bare. when i go in ashton's room, which use to be her room too, i see her clothes in the closet. her toys are stored in the attic now, which was the logical thing to do, i guess, but when i go in there, i just remember how much of her is gone now. the carpet, her bed, her flowers on the wall, her toys, her little kitchen...it's all gone, and what really sucks about it is that it was the right thing to do. ashton doesn't need flowers on the wall. ashton doesn't play with her baby dolls and kitchen. ashton didn't need her bed. it makes me sad to know that the world doesn't stop because i hurt. people still go to work, kids still play, babies still grow up, everything just keeps going, and i feel stuck in the same place, screaming for the rest of the world to care that my baby is gone and that my heart is broken. i guess it's selfish to want the world to stop, but i don't care. i don't want pity, and i don't want a pat on the back for surviving something so horrible, i just want my baby to have recognition for what a beautiful, sweet, loving, funny little girl she was. i almost feel like i should be punished for letting such a wonderful creation be taken from the earth. she loved me so much, and she trusted me, and when she needed me i wasn't there. that's what hurts the most. i know that bad things happen, and i've heard everybody say, "it's not your fault", but it doesn't change the fact that my baby's gone, and i could have stopped it if i had known. i don't believe that God needed another angel, and i don't believe that we are being punished for something that we've done, and i don't believe that God picks the prettiest flowers, so he picked her. i just believe that accidents happen, and this one could have been prevented had i been there, or if we had better locks on the door, or if we had put a gate around the pool. moral of the story is...hold on to your babies tight, and don't ever let them go. let them have fun, but don't be naive about what can happen to them when you're not paying close enough attention. love them with your whole heart, and make sure you hug and kiss them every day, and make sure you tell them every chance you get how much you love them and need them, because you never know when they could be taken from you.